Chapter 8 - THE PARKING LOT CONFRONTATION
"RAVENS!" Jack roared across the parking lot, his voice carrying with the terrifying force of a thunderclap.
From the far corner of the parking lot, near a row of lined-up motorcycles, three heavy engines suddenly roared to life. Three other members of the Iron Ravens Motorcycle Club—wearing identical leather vests—had been waiting for Jack while he ran his errand. Hearing their sergeant-at-arms roar across the asphalt, they instantly dropped their kickstands and revved their throttles.
The silver sedan's driver saw the three heavy motorcycles blocking the primary parking lot exit gate and panicked, slamming the car into reverse and speeding backward into a empty parking bay.
The Stranger reached the sedan, yanking the door open, but before he could dive into the front seat, a massive, tattooed hand reached through the open window frame, grabbed the back of his blue polo shirt, and hauled him backward out of the vehicle.
Jack slammed the Stranger against the side panel of the parked sedan, the heavy metal booming under the impact.
The purple backpack tumbled to the asphalt, its zipper sliding open slightly, revealing a stack of forged passports, flight tickets to South America, and a small, leather-bound medical journal.
"Who are you?" Jack growled, his thick forearm pinned across the Stranger's throat, pressing him firmly against the car door. "And why does that little girl have a photo of my dead brother?"
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The Stranger choked, his hands clawing at Jack’s leather-clad arm, his eyes wide with fear as he looked into the cold, dark eyes of the giant biker.
"I... I was paid..." the Stranger gasped out, struggling for air. "I was just paid to collect the child..."
